I have experienced a significant amount of physical discomfort in my life. I was a dancer from a very young age, and did so very consistently up into my teen years. Dance is a gorgeous art form, and does not come without it's sacrifices. For me a lot of that was physical. Painful shin splints, sharp shooting pain in the arches of my feet, and sacroilial joint problems in my low back all started in my pre-teen years. At least twice a year for many years I would wake up unable to move my neck accompanied with the kind of pain that would make tears stream down my face. I begged my mom for my first massage at 16 not because I wanted to feel fancy, but because I wanted to feel better. Flash forward to the yoga years......When I really started devoting myself and getting serious about my practice, I began to pay attention to the conversations my fellow yogis were having. One thing that stuck out was hearing about peoples practices and the categories their practices could be placed in. You would hear things like, 'he has a really strong inversion practice.' or, 'she is a really backbendy yogi.' and naturally I quietly wondered what category I fell in or would fall in some day. As though this in some way would solidify my seat in the yogic community or make me complete somehow. Me and my 'strong/open/impressive (insert body part or posture here)' would be in our corner representin' and rockin' it. Thankfully the practice is much more powerful than my ego. Regardless of the insecurity I initially brought to my mat I kept showing up and learned to remind myself every time that I was perfectly imperfect and OK just as I was-even if I didn't believe it. No matter how stressed out I was that day, no matter how happy or sad, how stuffy my nose, or achey my hamstrings, everything was as it needed to be, and I was complete. And very slowly the shift happened. Instead of wanting to be considered a 'backbendy' yogi I started wanting to practice backbends that made me feel alive, healthy and open. Instead of the goal simply being a 'strong arm balance/inversion practice', I wanted a practice that would allow me to gain access to healthy and supported shoulders while helping me to feel confident and trusting of my body. Instead of pressuring myself to show up to my meditation cushion at least twice a day for an hour each sit because I knew someone else who did it, I invited myself to practice in a way that allowed me to be centered, and to know that I was doing enough. Enough. That is what it all came down to. That is what I wanted, for myself, my practice to be. Enough backbends to have a healthy back and open heart. Enough forward folds to feel good in my hips, legs and knees. Enough arm balances and inversions to feel light, happy, strong and balanced. Enough meditation to be ready as an active and present part of my life. I try to remind myself of all of this every time I step on my mat. I tell myself that I am complete. The beautiful result to all of this is that moving in a way that invites just enough has brought me to a place where I am almost completely pain free. Besides a few aches from life in general and riding my bike, I feel good. I don't wake up with both of my hands numb and tingling. I don't remember the last time I woke up unable to move my neck - It has probably been almost five years! This practice really is powerful. Most of the time, we just need to get out of the way and let the magic unfold on it's own. There are still times when I need to be reminded of this, and that is when I walk into a yoga class ready to be guided, supported and held. Ready to be reminded that I am complete. To feel it, to move with it and to breathe with it.